


Those Who Wait

by owlmoose



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Background characters - Freeform, F/M, Original Characters - Freeform, Rebuilding After Disaster, Reverse Big Bang Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 10:05:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8620318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlmoose/pseuds/owlmoose
Summary: A young woman of Westruun contemplates whether to flee the site of a terrible disaster, or stay and help rebuild her home.
Written for the 2016 Critical Role Reverse Big Bang





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on wonderful artwork by [cool-porygon](http://cool-porygon.tumblr.com) on Tumblr. The art is available at the end of the story, or it can be seen [here](http://lifeofkj.tumblr.com/post/153495121770/artwork-by-cool-porygon-for-the-critical-role). Set during the events of Episodes 54 ("At Dawn, We Plan!") through 56 ("Hope") and includes spoilers through that point. The quote at the end is from Ep. 56.
> 
> Thanks to cool-porygon for the inspiration, and to the mods of [critrolebang](http://critrolebang.tumblr.com) for organizing such a fun event!

When word of the impending ambush on the outskirts of Westruun began to spread, Laine joined her remaining friends and neighbors in the pub. The couple who once ran it were both gone now – one lost in the initial dragon attack, the other killed by the barbarians only a few days later – but the building still stood, and the wide open floors were a good place to set up beds for those who had no other place to stay. The spice shop that Laine had run with her husband stood in near ruins, but she hadn’t wanted to leave at first. Enough walls remained that she could hide there, and the goliaths and their followers were less likely to ransack an apparent pile of rubble. But if the dragon escaped the ambush and attacked the city, the shop would provide no protection. So here she sat, perched on the edge of a cot, waiting for the end to come. Because one way or another, the reign of terror would probably end today. 

As if to punctuate the thought, a distant roar shook the walls, and Laine closed her eyes, clutching her young son, Jordy, close to her chest.

“Oof, Mama!” Jordy tried to squirm away. “Too tight!” 

Reluctantly, Laine loosened her grip, but only a little; Jordy nestled back against her of his own accord. “Don’t be scared, Mama. I’m sure the strong people will kill the bad dragon.” 

“I hope you’re right,” she murmured, soft enough that Jordy might not hear her fears and take fright himself. She needed to be strong. Strong for Jordy. 

“Laine?” She turned to look at Annah, the older woman who ran a millinery – or what used to be a millinery, before it had been torn to pieces by a dragon, then ransacked by a barbarian horde. Annah reached across the space between their cots to pat her hand. “Don’t be so frightened, dear. We all trust Vox Machina to know what they’re about.”

“Do we?” Laine shook her head. Jordy squirmed again, and this time she let him go. He sat at her feet and picked up a stick, using it to add to the stick figures he'd been tracing in the dirt floor – three men holding swords, a wagon filled with boxes, a dragon looming over them all. She stroked his hair, then turned her attention to Annah. “Every day since the dragons came, I’ve prayed to Sarenrae for deliverance. Then Vox Machina appeared, a cleric of the goddess herself among them, and it seemed too good to be true. What if they fail, and anger the dragon further? What if he attacks again and destroys the rest of us? What if Marcus–” the sum of all her terrors overwhelmed her, and she put her face in her hands, hoping to hide the threat of tears.

Annah moved her hand to Laine's shoulder, rubbing it slowly. “You’re thinking of your man Marcus, are you? Far away, not knowing what’s happened?”

Laine nodded, and lifted her head. “Or knowing, and fearing the worst. Not knowing that his mother and sister died the first day.” Her heart twisted as it always did at the thought of poor Denila and Lysa, lost in the initial onslaught, buried with a thousand others in a mass grave – there’d been no time for anything more personal. “Not knowing we’re alive, or whether it’s safe to come back.” She closed her eyes again. “I still don’t know whether to be glad or sorry that business took him to Vasselheim that day. He invited us to join him. I dearly wish we had.”

“At least you know he’s safe,” Annah said. “But don’t despair, my dear. We’ll survive as long as we stay together.”

“I hope so,” Laine whispered to herself as she leaned back, head against a cracked wooden beam, closing her eyes as she buried a hand in her son’s hair.

-x-

The dragon fled, Vox Machina followed, and a hush settled over Westruun as an entire city held its breath, awaiting the final outcome of the now-distant battle. The barbarians had taken heavy losses, though the leader’s heir lived; they retreated to the palace, leaving the townsfolk to their own devices. More people drifted into the pub, but Laine barely noticed: she simply sat, accepting food and water when it was offered, watching Jordy play with his friends, unable to either join him or call him back, numb to everything but the waiting. 

A few people tried to engage her in conversation, but she avoided their eyes, and soon enough they let her alone. Some of the hardier souls had begun to gather around the smith, Kerrek, making plans to go somewhere, but she did not count herself among their number. How could she leave, not knowing when Marcus would return? Or if? Could Jordy travel? If the dragon survived, and chose to take out its wrath on Westruun, would they have a choice? She twisted her fingers and worried at the hem of her shirt. If it were not safe to stay, nor possible to leave… Her thoughts had turned in this same circle for over a week now, with no solution in sight. She closed her eyes and tried to let them go,

As the shadows lengthened into late afternoon, Jordy returned, first sitting next to her, then laying his head in her lap where he fell into a doze. Absently, she stroked his hair, smooth red-gold in the firelight, the same color as his father’s. Laine tried not to think about Marcus; tried not to think about much at all. She had barely slept the night before, as she had barely slept for the last two weeks – she would lie awake and listen, alert for any sign of the dragon’s return. She expected tonight to be much the same, though she had decided to come to the pub in part because she would not have to watch for trouble alone. For the comfort of safety in numbers.

Safety, or an easier target.

Laine closed her eyes and took a slow, deep, breath. Waiting, waiting, nothing but waiting. To be the wife of a trader meant a life of waiting. Once, waiting had been second nature to her, but now it was impossible. Her spirit was a taut bowstring, held forever at the moment just before release. Another day of this, and the strand might break. And then what would she do? What would Jordy do?

She let out the breath, tried to release the tension with it, letting herself focus on the softness of Jordy’s hair, on the gentle murmur of people around her, preparing for dinner and bed, talking about Kerrek’s plan and what he might find in the dragon’s lair. At least someone was making a plan. She grasped that thought and made herself take comfort in it, loosening the death grip on her fears just a little, and started to let herself drift away.

Time passed; an hour, perhaps. And then the buzz began, just before dusk. “The dragon– the barbarians– Vox Machina– Umbrasyl–” Laine opened her eyes, coming awake to the whispers of a people not quite ready to hope, but then louder, stronger, building in confidence after Kerrek returned and leant his considerable voice to the truth. “The dragon is dead.” “Did you see? Pike and her friends are back alive, and they defeated the dragon.” “I heard the good news from Kerrek – bring out the casks of wine!” “The dragon is dead! The barbarian horde has left! Westruun is free!”

In her lap, Jordy turned his head and opened his eyes to look up at her. “Mama? Do you hear that?”

“I do, little one.” She smoothed the hair back from his face. It had been a month since it was last cut; perhaps now she would find the time, perhaps her hands would stop shaking enough to make it safe. 

“Do you think it’s true?” His green eyes were wide, hopeful, trusting. 

She glanced up from Jordy into the room, swept her gaze over the rousing crowd, conversation and laughter and even a snatch or two of song reaching her ears. She saw Kerrek, standing at a tapped cask of ale, filling outstretched mugs and smiling. She saw the gnarled gnome cleric Wilhand chattering excitedly at the lady Pike, and other members of Vox Machina milling about the crowd. She saw Annah, threading her way through the cots that people had already started pushing out of the way. Annah waved, a smile spreading over her face, and Laine raised her hand in a return greeting before looking back at her son. “Yes,” she said. “I think it is.”

Jordy bounced up, face splitting into a huge grin. “I knew it! I knew Vox Machina would kill him and make us all safe. Just like they killed Kevdak, with a _whoosh_ and a _stab_ and a _bang_!” He ran around in a little circle, fingers pointing into a gun shape and making sharp cracking noises, running smack into Annah’s leg as she approached. “Ooof!”

Annah only laughed and grabbed him, swinging him up into her arms. “C’mere, my boy. Let’s celebrate. I’ll get you a glass of wine!”

“Oooh!” Jordy’s head turned toward Laine, expression pleading. “Please, Mama?”

Laine smiled and ruffled his hair. “All right,” she said. “Just a little.” He beamed, and she dug into her pack for the tankards that she’d rescued from the ruins of their home. What better occasion for his first taste of wine than a celebration of their freedom? And she would have a drink or two herself. Her problems were far from over, but at least for one night, she could drink, and smile, and maybe even laugh a little. At least for now, they were safe.

-x-

Laine walked out of the town meeting with one hand on Jordy’s shoulder and an eye on the sky. All the hope from the night before, the joy and the relief… she would not say they were completely drained, but tempered? Yes, it would be safe to say tempered. Three dragons still lived, terrorizing other cities, and they might return – she remembered two of them, the green dragon and the white, from the initial attack; it had, in fact, been a blast of poisonous breath from the green dragon that had killed her mother-in-law before her very eyes, and it had taken a day for her sister-in-law’s frozen body to thaw enough to bury. It had not occurred to her to worry that the others might come back. Now she could think of little else.

She wished, desperately, that she could join the party that planned to leave and join the settlement to the south. Her closest neighbors had left with that group; surely she would be welcomed. But it was still impossible. What if Marcus returned while she was gone? And Jordy…

Jordy had spent the whole meeting quiet and still, unusual for him; he had been focused on Vox Machina the whole time, eyes shining. Vox Machina had been thoughtful, and convincing. The young man with the white hair had talked sense, but so had the red-haired half-elven woman. She shuddered at the thought of going down into the sewers, and yet surely that was safer than here, out in the open? Or would be, once they were prepared for human habitation.

Annah, who walked at her other side, paused, then nudged Laine in the shoulder. “Look,” she murmured, pointing to the old mansion in the center of town, the former Margrave's residence that had been taken over by the barbarians. The door sat half-open on broken hinges, and the courtyard was empty but for a few of the band – a couple of half-orcs, and an older female goliath. “I think they’re leaving.”

Laine shaded her hand over her eyes and peered through the darkened empty way. “Or they’re already gone.” She leaned her hand on a splintered fencepost. “So strange to think that they aren’t going to bother us any more. And that the black dragon is gone, even if others may follow.” She looked up at the sky again. “If only we knew for sure.”

“No one ever knows for sure, dear.” Annah shook her head. “All we can do is hope for the best.”

“Mm.” Laine looked more closely at Annah, her lined face, the dark circles under her eyes. “What will you do? Stay here, or try your luck elsewhere?”

“I’ll stay,” Annah said, tapping her leg for emphasis. “Westruun is my home. I can’t imagine leaving it, not even if the earth were to erupt beneath my feet.” She lowered her eyes. “My family is buried here: my husband, my parents, my son. And my daughter’s in Emon; even if I wanted to go to her, it wouldn’t be safe. No, this is my place, just as it's yours.”

Laine glanced at Jordy, who had wriggled away again. “It’s his place, anyway. And as long as Marcus is still out there, trying to get back, I don’t dare leave.” Even if a part of her wished to grab Jordy and fly away, to Kymal, to Vasselheim, to Fort Daxio, to anywhere but here. But maybe it would be safe to stay. Maybe. If Vox Machina kept to their word. 

Annah smiled. “I understand that Kerrek is traveling to Kymal, to get word to the refugees there that it’s safe to return. Perhaps your Marcus has made his way there.”

“I can’t see how,” Laine replied. “It takes weeks to get to Vasselheim by boat. And surely airships aren’t safe, when there are dragons in the skies.”

“The world may still surprise you, dear.” Annah patted Laine on the shoulder. “I’ll see you later.” 

Laine acknowledged her with a nod, then looked back toward the town square, the people drifting away, and the team still standing on the dais and planning, and wondered if it was worth hoping.

-x-

The next morning dawned clear – too clear, Laine thought, casting an eye on the sky through the holes in her mostly-ruined roof. But she had to venture out, like it or not – her food stores had grown dangerously low, and today was the day that farmers brought fruits, vegetables, and fresh meat to market, meager as those supplies were lately. At least the goliaths would no longer be taking the best off the top for themselves. 

“Jordy,” she called out, and he looked up from the table where he sat, poring over his latest drawing. “Time to go to market.”

He popped out of his seat and skipped over to her. With a sudden burst of energy, he grabbed her by the hand and started pulling her toward the door. “Yay! Let’s go.” He looked up at the blue sky as they passed into the street, eyes wide. “It’s so nice today.”

“All right, calm down.” Laine tousled his hair with a fond smile. “Just don’t get too far ahead of me.”

Jordy tossed his head backward, grinning, then let go of her hand and took off like a shot, charging down the street and rounding the corner before she even had time to move. 

“Ach, that boy!” Laine slung her marketing basket over her shoulder and ran after him. She made her way around the neighboring building just in time to see him disappear again, this time down an alley. “Jordy, stop,” she called after him, but either he didn’t hear or chose not to listen. Instead, he turned sideways to slip through the dark grate into the sewers.

A cold hand of fear grasped Laine’s heart, but she didn’t stop running. There were rumors of creatures in the sewers; there was no way she would let Jordy go in there alone. With a deep breath, she approached the grating and pulled open the gate that would let her inside. “Jordy?” She stepped over the threshold with care, relieved to find that it at least started on solid ground. “Jordy! Come back here this instant!”

She heard no reply, only footsteps. More, she thought, than Jordy alone should account for. Frowning, she stepped further into the dark tunnel, stopping every few steps to let her eyes adjust. “Jordy? Jordy!”

A crashing noise rocked the tunnel, followed by a flash of light and a loud bang. Laine barely had time to recognize the sound as a gunshot before the shaking brought a shower of dirt and small rocks down on her head. She threw an arm up to protect her face, then shook off the debris and kept going, growing fear adding speed to her steps. Rounding the corner ahead, she found a torch in a bracket, and she took it, waving the light ahead of her to look for any sign of Jordy and watch for uneven ground. A few moments later, she came to a T-intersection, and stopped short. The battle noises – because they were definitely battle noises, mostly shouting punctuated by the occasional sharp crack of the gun – were coming from her left, and she had a sick feeling that Jordy had followed the signs of excitement, wandering right into danger. 

But there was nothing for it. If Jordy was in there, she had to follow. So she charged forward – straight into a black-clad arm that shot out from the shadows to block her path. Laine let out a tiny scream and dropped her torch. The arm belonged to a hooded figure in the deep shadows, who immediately stepped forward, hands firmly on Jordy's shoulders. “I think you lost something.”

Laine dropped to one knee and grabbed Jordy, pulling her to him. For once, he didn’t struggle but instead threw his arms around her neck. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I just– I saw them, and I wanted to know where they’re going.”

She looked up at the man – no, elf, she corrected herself, noting the sharp facial features beneath his hood. Half-elf, she finally remembered; this was Vax’ildan, one of the members of Vox Machina. He caught her gaze with an apologetic look. “He must have followed us in here. My sister heard him running behind us, and dispatched me back to see him safe.”

“Thank you,” Laine breathed. She stood, bringing Jordy up with her; he wrapped his legs about her waist, and she cradled him as best she could. He was getting a little big to carry, but today she indulged him. 

“Of course, ma’am.” Vax’ildan tipped his head to her. “Do you need an escort out?”

Laine shook her head and retrieved the torch, which by some miracle still burned but had not set the floor on fire. “I can find my way. Thank you. And good luck.”

He crossed his arms across his chest with another nod, then sprinted off into the tunnel to catch up with the rest of his troupe. As soon as he was gone, Laine shifted Jordy in her arms to get a more secure grip and carried him back into the light. 

-x-

A week later, Laine found herself back in the sewers, but the mood had changed drastically. The gates to the tunnel entrances stood open, and more torch brackets lined the walls, granting the path a warm fire-lit glow. She also wasn’t alone – once Vox Machina had cleared the sewers of danger, and the druid had shored up the crumbling walls and dug out more living space, they declared the underground safe to enter, and the people of Westruun went to work making everything more comfortable. So craftspeople and artisans passed her in both directions, sharing cheerful greetings and a kind word as they went about their errands, and this time Laine didn’t stop Jordy when he surged ahead, squeezing through the crowd and out of her sight. He'd been finding his way in here on a regular basis now, and with so many people in and out she tried not to worry so much about it. It was no different from letting him wander alone on market day. Besides, being underground shielded him from the skies above, where dragons might fly. She strolled along behind him, knowing where he was headed: the large central space in the center that was already being referred to as Beneath Town Square.

It was quite a sight, this room. Likely it had once housed a cistern – the faint trace of a round outline could still be seen on the floor, in the center of the space – but now it was a flat open area, surrounded by walls and the first stirrings of a future marketplace with a dozen wooden stalls under construction. A wire mesh grate sat in the ceiling overhead, letting in the late morning sun, dust motes drifting in the beams. Also here was a small dais, prepared for announcements of whoever might step up to lead them, and along one edge stood the history wall. It had grown considerably in just a short time, with text and images filled almost the entire wall – tales from the ancient founding of the city through the heroics that had so recently saved it. 

Also at the wall was Jordy, reaching as high as he could to draw something. “Oh dear,” Laine muttered under her breath, then raised her voice. “Jordy–”

“It’s all right.” The voice came from over her shoulder; she turned around to see the smith, Kerrek, looking over at Jordy with a smile. “This is the children’s story as much as ours. And look – he’s not the only one.” He pointed to two girls, just a little older than Jordy, standing over in a corner and giggling a sketch they had made of the dragon, tied down to the ground with ropes. “They’ve had little enough joy these past weeks, and who knows when hard times will come again?”

Laine sighed. “You’re right, of course.”

“Speaking of joy.” Kerrek turned and gestured toward the south entrance to Beneath Town Square. “It looks like your present is here.” Laine squinted in the dim light at the large group of people who were entering, many of them looking around in surprise. With a start, she realized that she recognized some of them as neighbors who had escaped to Kymal. And then she saw him: coming out of the crowd, his eyes falling on hers, red-blond hair catching the torch light, and she was running, running to him, arms outstretched, gasping in joy, the tears already beginning to flow.

“Laine!” Marcus reached her; she flung herself into his arms, and he scooped her up into a hug. “Praise Sarenrae, you’re alive! When I heard– I thought–” He brushed the hair back from her face, mouth wobbling. “You’re alive.”

“And you’re home.” With that, she kissed him, fiercely, not caring who might see. She could hear other joyful reunions happening around them, but it didn’t matter. Right now all that mattered was Marcus: here, safe, with her.

When she was ready, she pulled back a little. “You were in Kymal?”

He nodded. “As soon as I heard about the dragon attack on Westruun, I booked passage on an airship the very next day. Emon bore the brunt of the first incursion, so they left us on the coast outside of Kymal. I’d been there for a few days, making ready to come find you no matter what the risks were, when Kerrek came with the news of the black dragon’s defeat. I thought about striking out alone that very night, but I was convinced it would be safer to come with the main caravan, and it was good to be able to help them out.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “But it’s better to be home with you.”

Laine brought their foreheads together. “I don’t know how much Kerrek told you about our losses. Jordy is fine, but your mother–”

“I know,” he said softly. “Mother, and Lysa. I have grieved, and I will mourn them properly, but right now I choose to focus on the good news.” He ran his hands down her arms and caught their hands up together. “That you’re safe, and Jordy is safe, and we can get back to something resembling our lives now.”

“Yes.” She leaned in for another kiss, before the stillness between them was broken by the sound of Jordy’s voice and the tug of his hand on her dress.

“Mama, I finished my drawing, I–” Laine turned around to look at him, and he stopped dead as he recognized his father standing next to her. “Papa? Papa!! Is that really you?!”

“Hello.” Marcus grinning down at his son, then scooped him up in a single motion. “It’s really me.”

Jordy grabbed Marcus around his neck and hugged him tight. Marcus closed his eyes and leaned his cheek against the side of Jordy’s head, and Laine’s tears began to flow again: tears of relief, of love, of joy. Embracing Marcus again, this time with Jordy between them, she relished the happiness of a whole family once again.

After a long moment, she let go, and Marcus put Jordy down. “Now,” he said, “if I’m not mistaken, you were about to show us something.”

“Yes!” Jordy perked up immediately, and he grabbed Marcus by the hand. “I made a drawing for the history wall, of the people that saved us. Come see!”

Laughing, Marcus and Laine followed, hand in hand in hand, to take in his artwork of the saviors of Westruun, their family, and their future.

* * *

_“As you look down at the stick figures you see one with antlers, two that are smaller than the others. One that is larger than the rest; burlier, thicker around the chest. One you can barely see and one that flies across them all on a broom. And at the very end, [he’s] just finishing one with funny glasses.”_


End file.
